


my trouble and your trouble shook hands

by janie_tangerine



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Hostage Situation, M/M, Roleswap, Romantic Friendship, and Theon's life more or less sucks anyway, basically Robb isn't as bad off as Theon was in the original canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-23
Updated: 2013-04-23
Packaged: 2017-12-09 07:13:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/771477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/janie_tangerine/pseuds/janie_tangerine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>where Robb is the hostage and Theon isn't his father's heir.</p>
            </blockquote>





	my trouble and your trouble shook hands

**Author's Note:**

> written for the last round at the ASOIAF kinkmeme - the prompt was _reversed roles AU. Robb as hostage in Pyke._ This entire thing is based on the premise that Balon won the war and that Theon's brothers were never killed - er, please just go with it? Hopefully it makes sense. The title is from the Horrible Crowes, nothing belongs to me.

It’s raining.

Again.

As Robb walks through the damp corridors he can’t help thinking that he’ll never get used to it. He remembers home enough to be sure that he’d have rather died freezing during the northern winter than this bloody rain, even if he’s been here for almost ten years and he’s almost despairing that he’ll ever see Winterfell anytime soon.

He thinks he can count on two hands the completely sunny days he’s seen since then. He’s been told that the other islands are less rainy, but how would he know – he hasn’t ever been anywhere other than Pyke. He never goes, when the others do. Well, it’s not just him, though. Which is the reason why he’s doing this during the day – the king, the queen, their older sons and Asha (she’s the only one other than her mother who never was outright horrible to him at least once, so he pays her the courtesy of using her name when he thinks about her) are on Harlaw to visit the queen’s family and no one is paying attention to what he does.

Fine, it’s been a while since they really did – the first couple of years were a nightmare, but after he learned how to use a sword effectively the tune had changed. Fine, maybe he shouldn’t have had left a permanent scar on Rodrik Greyjoy’s face when the latter reminisced about how _loudly_ his lady mother had cried when they took him from Winterfell, but that actually was what won him relative peace. Balon Greyjoy had done nothing to punish him and told his son that if he could get wounded by a nine year old boy then it was his bloody fault, and well, Robb might have been a useless wolf but at least it seemed like he could bite, and he had been left well enough alone since. Actually, everyone but Rodrik had seemed pleased with it. Robb still thinks that most of these people are completely mad, but then again, their problem, not his.

Meanwhile he really wishes that his room wasn’t that far from the one he’s actually trying to reach – it might be day, but there’s a storm outside and the candlelight is barely enough to make him see where he’s going.

He hates this damned place.

Well, fine. Not the entirety of it. Or better, not the entirety of the people on it – and it’s not just including Asha. Or the queen, who’s always been perfectly nice to him.

He’s frankly relieved when he reaches the door and knocks.

“It’s Robb,” he says.

“It’s open.”

Clearly he couldn’t have bothered to open himself. Well, nothing that Robb didn’t suspect already. He pushes the door open and locks it behind him, and while he does that he hears a wracking cough come from behind him.

“You know,” Robb says, “my room is less damp than this.”

“Try telling my father that,” Theon mutters. “That’s because you’re a foreigner and someone pointed out to him that you wouldn’t be adjusted to it.”

Robb doesn’t point out that his brothers and his sisters all have nicer rooms than him. He’s sure that Theon knows that already, and he’s already sick on his own – no need to pour salt on an already opened wound. Not that Theon has ever gone with the others when they visited anywhere else, not many times, so Robb is pretty sure that he’s not stuck here because of that.

“Still. I see you didn’t get better, though.”

“Stark, shut your mouth. Does it look like it?” Not really, Robb thinks. He sighs before taking off his boots and climbing on the other side of the bed. Now that he’s seeing him up close, Theon really looks worse off than yesterday evening.

“You should have told your mother, you know.”

“No. She almost never visits her relatives and she would have stayed back. And – it’s not worth it.”

Robb sighs before reaching out and brushing a hand over Theon’s forehead – there’s cold sweat all over it and he’s fairly hot, but he’s also huddling under at least five blankets.

“Gods, you’d be a sight if you ever came North.”

“What?”

“If you feel cold _now_ , I can’t imagine how well you’d fare over there.”

“Good for me that I’m not. And good for you if you’re adjusted to it. I’m cold, damn it.”

Robb doesn’t even go out of his way for a rebuttal and moves under the covers. “Do you know that your mood can use some improvement right now?”

Theon snorts, but he doesn’t move when Robb puts an arm around his waist. “Do you want to give it a try?” Robb almost rolls his eyes at the tone.

“You can barely stay awake. I can _improve_ your mood in that sense in a few days.” Theon doesn’t protest though when Robb presses a soft kiss on his shoulder before grabbing a piece of cloth that fell on the covers but that must have been on Theon’s forehead first. He sighs before cleaning at least the cold sweat from his face.

“You know, no one is here. You could ask a maid to bring you some water outside meal times, at least.”

“Yes, just to have everyone but my mother tell me that I should be able to take it when they’re back? Forget it.”

Robb sighs as he presses closer – he still remembers the first time they spoke to each other. It’s mildly embarrassing in retrospective – he can’t remember what either Rodrik or Maron had told him, probably it was some insult to his mother again, but he had been six and he hadn’t been on Pyke for three days straight. He had waited for them to leave before breaking down in tears, and then Theon had showed up looking mildly sorry for him and saying that he understood it even too well. Robb had barely contained his cautious happiness at the prospect that someone in there was not going to detest him on principle and – well, things progressed and if the king has problems with the two of them being friends, he never said.

Robb suspects that he just doesn’t care either way – he seems to notice Theon’s presence just when he does something wrong, but Robb never pointed that out to him either. He can’t make sense of that either – he might not remember _everything_ from Winterfell, but he’s pretty sure that his father treated all his siblings the same way he treated him. He tries not to think about the three he knows he has but that he’s never met – at least his mother never stopped sending ravens and he’s glad for it. He also doesn’t like how resigned to it Theon seems to be most times.

“Listen, do you want me to go get you some food or some more water?”

“You’d lose yourself in the castle with this weather, Stark. I know you too well. It’s all right, someone will bring food before dark. You could still try to distract me, though.”

“Really.” Theon turns around at that, and while Robb wasn’t expecting him to hide his head against Robb’s shoulder before grabbing a handful of blankets and drag them over his head… well. He doesn’t mind at all. He starts rubbing circles on Theon’s back with one hand while the other goes to his hair – he has vague memories of his mother doing the same to him once upon a time. “And how should I?”

“You’re doing well enough,” Theon says against his shoulder, not even bothering to make sure that Robb can actually hear him. Theon doesn’t stop him when in order to fill the silence he starts telling some stupid story about one time when he and Jon got lost for an entire night in the godswood when they were five – actually, he’s only doing it because it made them both look like idiots and he couldn’t think of anything else that would at least lighten the mood. It does work – Theon is snorting against his shoulder so at least that. He doesn’t say that in the last raven his mother sent him she mentioned that they’re trying to strike some kind of alliance with Balon Greyjoy so that he can come home. He doesn’t tell Theon that in case it works he’ll most probably ask him to come with – after all, Theon keeps on saying that as far as his father is concerned he could as well go to the Wall and no one would bat an eyelid. If Robb asks him to come to Winterfell at least for a while he doubts anyone would protest.

Better not get anyone’s hopes up for now though, not until the deal’s gone through. 

“Wait,” Theon interrupts him when Robb is almost done – at least he takes the blankets off his head before he speaks, “you spent a night in a freaking cave in the godswood and you gave your brother your cloak because _you felt guilty about it_ when he hadn’t told you no and then you spent two weeks sick after that?”

“I never said it was my finest moment. But I was the one insisting, I wasn’t going to risk Jon getting sick because I had been an idiot.” Not to mention that Jon tended to get sick more than Robb did.

“You’re unbelievable, you know that?”

“Why, Greyjoy, _thank you_ , that’s high praise coming from you.”

And fine, Theon starts laughing so hard that it turns into coughing, but at least it worked.

Robb doesn’t let himself think about how much he misses Jon (not as much now as in the beginning, but he still does).

“Anyway, if you ever come to Winterfell I’ll be happy to show you that cave. So you can have another laugh at my expenses.”

For a moment Theon looks at him as if he hadn’t expected that question.

“You would.”

“I would. So?”

Theon’s lips curl up in a small smile as he falls back down on the bed, his head still against Robb’s shoulder.

“So I’d say why not,” he says before grabbing his blankets and pulling them over his chin again.

As a comfortable silence falls in between them, Robb finds himself wishing that whatever deal his parents might be thinking about goes through. As much as he complains about the cold weather, he thinks that Theon would like Winterfell. After all, there’s nothing harmful in hoping that he’ll get to show him around his home someday.

End.


End file.
